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Seventy-three seconds

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On January 28, 1986, the Challenger Space Shuttle was scheduled for its 10th mission, the 25th mission of the entire shuttle fleet. By this point, we had become comfortable with shuttle launches, but this one was special because it included a teacher from New Hampshire who would become the first civilian in space. Tragically, the shuttle exploded just 73 seconds into the mission. After a year of investigation, we finally know that, unfortunately, temperatures had dropped as low as 36°F (2.22°C), which caused an O-ring to fail.

Christa McAuliffe, the teacher aboard, was making history, and many children across the United States were watching. This poem is written by the numbers.

Listen to poem:

One thought, igniting the dream, Seven bold souls, steady as they seem. Ten missions past, Challenger soared, Twenty-five flights, the program roared. Tick-tick. A countdown clear. The world leans close. The clock draws near. Thirty-six degrees—a frozen doubt. A seal strained tight; the gas leaks out. Ignition. Roar. Climb. Silence screams. A nation watches shattered dreams. Seventy-three seconds, sky turned to flame, History echoes their hallowed names. At 5:00 PM, the voice of command, A president speaks to a grieving land: “The crew of the Challenger honored us all. They slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God.” 32 months, grounded hope rebuilt. A frozen morning, a lasting guilt. Tick-tick. The seconds mourn. We remember still That frozen dawn.

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